


Some Rules Are Made to Be Broken

by agrajag



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Shiro, Crossover, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-24 18:23:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20018974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agrajag/pseuds/agrajag
Summary: "I thought it would do no harm if I were to sit here while I was waiting.""Waiting for who?" Lance asked. [...] "Maybe I can help you.""Are you Special Agent Akira Keith Kogane?""No, I'm...""Then you cannot help me," the woman said as she made a big show of inspecting her nails."Hey now!' Lance took a deep breath before continuing. It wouldn't do anyone any good if he blew up at their mystery visitor. He put on his most charming smile, offered his hand, and said, "I'm Very Special Agent Alejandro Sanchez. Lance Sanchez. I can take you to Kogane."The woman still refused to look at him and she completely ignored his extended hand."Hhmmm... no. I will wait."The Voltron crew (I mean the NCIS crew), featuring a new member, are called in to investigate a historical coffin... with a not so historical mummy.





	Some Rules Are Made to Be Broken

**Author's Note:**

> i had a dream that the voltron characters were in the NCIS universe and despite hating myself for this, almost 19K words later, here we are
> 
> you don't need to be a fan of NCIS to read this the plot does follow an episode very closely, but i have changed some things around to make it fit them a little bit better and i split one character to be pidge and matt
> 
> one thing to note because it might be a possible trigger: romelle is kate in this, and if you aren't familar with the show NCIS, she was killed in the line of duty
> 
> anyway i barely edited this i just want it out of my hands at this point lol

In his defense, why would Lance have bothered to look and see if anyone was sitting at that desk.

_Her_ desk.

It had been purposefully empty since Romelle had ('been shot right in front of me,' his unhelpful brain provided) passed away, so why would someone be sitting there?

So yeah. Totally not his fault that he jumped when someone who was definitely not a guilty manifestation of Romelle, wearing the space ranger uniform from Lance's favorite cartoon when he was a kid, said hello.

"You can't sit at that desk," Lance told the woman. Instead of the dozens of things he should have said. Like 'who are you?' for one.

"It is empty. Clearly no one is using it," the woman pointed out. The woman was tall (Lance could tell even while she was sitting down), beautiful (because he wasn't blind, okay?), and probably 'not from around here' going by her accent (though it's not like Lance could judge based on that). She was wearing a hijab although there were some wisps of hair that were escaping, and Lance was surprised by how white it was. Undercover job stressing her out, perhaps? "I thought it would do no harm if I were to sit here while I was waiting."

"Waiting for who?" Lance asked, his brain finally coming back online. Planting his hands on Rom... the desk, he leaned in and winked. "Maybe I can help you."

"Are you Special Agent Akira Keith Kogane?"

"No, I'm..."

"Then you cannot help me," the woman said as she made a big show of inspecting her nails.

"Hey now!' Lance took a deep breath before continuing. It wouldn't do anyone any good if he blew up at their mystery visitor. He put on his most charming smile, offered his hand, and said, "I'm Very Special Agent Alejandro Sanchez. Lance Sanchez. I can take you to Kogane."

The woman still refused to look at him and she completely ignored his extended hand. 

"Hhmmm... no. I will wait."

'She didn't even really think about that,' Lance thought with a huff before stomping over to his desk. He pecked at the keyboard of his computer, not really doing anything, trying to spy on the woman over the top of the monitor. Thankfully, he was saved by the arrival of their resident nerd, Takashi Shirogane.

"Special Agent Akira Keith Kogane?" the woman asked, pointing at him.

Lance laughed so hard he snorted.

"Not even close."

"Well, I mean, we are brothers," Takashi said as he set his messenger bag on his desk, reaching over to turn on his computer. As it booted up, he shot Lance a glare. "I can see how she'd make that assumption."

"Adopted brothers," Lance muttered and then, speaking up, tacked on, "and even if that weren't the case, you two couldn't be any more different, Shiro."

"Odd," the woman said before Takashi could reprimand Lance for the use of the nickname. "Shiro is Japanese, is it not? I believe Special Agent Kogane is Korean?"

"Wait, Shiro actually means something?" Lance asked, excited. He'd been using it against Takashi for four years and never knew that it meant something other than some ruffled feathers on Takashi's part.

"Our parents traveled a lot," Takashi explained, leaving Lance to be ignored for the second time that morning. "They still do. We may have set roots in the States, but they're currently in Paris. Only Lance calls me Shiro, though. I'm Agent Takashi Shirogane. Takashi is fine."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Takashi. I am Officer Allura David with the Altea Agency."

At the mention of the Altea Agency, both Lance and Takashi froze.

"Does Keith know someone from Altea is looking for him?" Takashi asked as Lance asked "What does Altea want?" over him.

"I am only to speak to Agent Kogane... once he arrives," Allura said curtly. "I find it disconcerting that his team arrives before him."

"Funny thing, that," Lance said. "He's probably here already, and he's going to do that thing where he waits until we're saying something rude about him, right?" He motioned to Takashi who reluctantly nodded in agreement. "Then, once we've incriminated ourselves, that's when he'll sneak up behind us aaaaaaaaandddddd... slap us on the back of the head!" Lance steadied himself for said slap and relaxed after waiting for several excruciating moments. "Oh, wow. I'm honestly surprised he's not standing right behind me. He's usua -- Ow!"

Takashi and Allura laughed as Keith slapped Lance, although Takashi had the decency to try and hide it. He was too late to save himself. Lance had seen. Oh, he'd be getting him back for that.

"Oh, hey there Samurai," Lance said sheepishly. "Didn't see you there."

"That's kind of the point, Sanchez," Keith said with a smirk. His trademark frown returned, however, when he saw Allura. "Get out of that seat," he said, his voice like ice. "No one is allowed in that seat."

Lance mouthed 'I told you so' before slipping into his own chair and pretending, once more, to be working. Incredibly interested in one of the case files on his desk. Obviously he was paying more attention to the classic Western movie worthy stand off taking place in front of him. Allura stood her ground. Well, she was sitting, but you get the picture.

"I will assume that you are Special Agent Akira Keith Kogane. I am Officer Allura David. Your Director Iverson said you would be expecting me."

Keith grunted and stalked off toward the director's office.

"That meant that he was not expecting your arrival," Lance translated for Allura. If looks could kill, then the glare she shot him would have dumped his body into the ocean without leaving any evidence. "What are you doing here anyway?"

Lance couldn't help but be reminded of a shark when Allura smiled at him, all teeth.

"I am liaising with your team."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Keith was never exactly a happy person even on a good day, so between Allura's arrival, a heated discussion with Director Iverson (which led to him angrily cleaning off one of the spare desks in the lobby for Allura to use), and then a dead marine to top it all off, he was most definitely not in a good mood. He had slapped Lance ten times so far. That was excessive, even for him (and Lance was starting to think his relationship with his boss might be a little messed up). Still, Lance wouldn't trade his job for anything. Not when they got cases like this.

"Do all of your corpses turn up conveniently in coffins?" Allura asked. She had traded her head scarf for the NCIS baseball hat, but she couldn't have looked more out of place as they took pictures of the crime scene. They had arrived at the Smithsonian, confused at first as to why they called out to investigate a mummy in a 19th century coffin, when the archaeologist who had opened it showed them the cell phone the mummy had clutched in his hand. Lance made sure to get as many photos of the phone as he could before moving onto documenting the rest of the crime scene.

"Probably best to not refer to Petty Officer Grey Clark as 'the corpse,'" Takashi suggested. "That's just a... little morbid."

"My apologies. I did not realize."

"Hey, we can worry about teaching Officer David Americanisms later," Lance said. Keith was preoccupied now that the NCIS coroner Dr. Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe (or Smithy as he kept telling people to call him, but it was never going to catch on) and his assistant Hunk Gareth had finally made it to the crime scene. Hunk was a fantastic driver but absolutely horrible with directions. Anyway, Lance wasn't about to waste the opportunity when he had seen something incredibly interesting in the next room. "

We need to go get some pictures over there."

"By the stuffed bear?" Takashi asked, looking over to where Lance was pointing. 

He sighed, but ended up following Lance anyway. He totally loved Lance's antics, even if he refused to ever admit it, Lance just knew it. He grumbled the whole way over there, just to prove how much he 'hated' it. 

"It wasn't even an Americanism. Just common courtesy, you know. And rich... learning American lingo from the guy from Cuba and the guy from Japan, am I right?"

"I heard all of that, and your insubordination is duly noted. Allura gets the first picture."

"I do not understand. Can we not all take pictures at once?"

Lance rolled his eyes.

"There's no way you don't know what I mean. C'mon. Gimme your camera." 

Allura reluctantly handed her camera over as Lance directed her to stand right in front of the stuffed bear's extended claws. 

"Okay. Now act scared."

"Scared?" Allura asked, but Lance was already snapping her picture. "Oh, I see."

Surprisingly, Allura played along once she realized what Lance was doing. She threw up her hands and opened her mouth in a silent scream. Lance took a few more pictures before handing off the cameras to Takashi.

"My turn."

"You're worse than a four year old," Takashi grumbled. He juggled the cameras, trying to get a grip on Lance's. Once he did, he took several photos as Lance struck several model worthy poses.

"I hope you got my good side," Lance said, taking the cameras from him. "Now, go on. You know you want one too."

Takashi smiled softly and took Lance's spot in front of the bear. His stomach felt a little uneasy, and that was odd. Well, no time to dwell on that. Takashi was busy resting his chin on top of the bear's arm, as if the creature was strangling him, and even Lance had to admit that it was oddly adorable. He was just about to get the perfect shot when he felt another smack to the back of his head.

"Hey Samurai," he said guiltily. "Coran all done with Petty Officer Clark already?"

"Well, you would know if the three of you were actually working. Lance?"

"Yes boss?"

"Go help Hunk with the body. And by body, I mean the coffin. We're taking the whole thing back to Pidge."

"Yes boss."

"Takashi and Officer David, once we get back to the office, find Petty Officer Clark's family and talk to them."

"Got it, Keith," Takashi said. 

Lance couldn't help but be jealous that Takashi didn't even look the least bit ashamed for being caught. That was one of the benefits of having your brother be the boss.

"Sir. I am not sure I am fit to talk to the next of kin," Allura pointed out. 

It was the first time since she had shown up at NCIS that morning that Lance had seen her look unsure of herself.

"Oh no, you're definitely not ready to interview anyone." Lance started to snigger at that. "You're going to observe, and that's it. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and Officer David? Things will probably go a lot smoother if you don't call me sir."

"Right suh -- uh, Keith."

Keith stalked off, looking a little happier (well, for him) now that he had caused Allura to get all flustered. Lance patter her on the back in sympathy before running off to join Coran and Hunk in the adjoining room. Now, Hunk was one of Lance's best friends in the world, and he was always grateful for the chance to team up with him, and he honestly admired Coran, but he had a tendency to get stuck on a tangent which made it a little difficult to get your job done. And while Coran was a fountain of some truly interesting knowledge, he had awful timing. For instance, instead of helping Hunk carry out their poor petty officer, he was regaling him, all the Smithsonian staff who were still being interviewed by the local police, and said local police with the history of the coffin.

"Did you know that some of the first instances of coffins being used go back as far as the year 700 by the Celts? They made their's out of wood and stone. Before that, bodies were usually disposed of using burial shrouds," Coran said as everyone in the room watched him, transfixed. The police had their pens poised above their notebooks as if they had been in the middle of taking statements when they became distracted by Coran's fascinating fact. "And futher more, there was a time where reusable coffins became a thing when..."

"Hey hey, Coran Coran, the gorgeous man," Lance said, slinging an arm around Coran's shoulder. "How have you been?"

"Oh, Number Three, hello. I've been just fine, my boy. How have you been?"

"I'm good, I'm good. I'm here to help you and Hunk with this giant coffin, on account of how buff I am." Lance flexed and tried to ignore the one archaeologist's laughter. "Boss man wants us to try and get everyone and, uh, everything out of here as soon as we can. I'm riding back with you two, so you can tell me all about -- uh, what you were talking about on our way back to headquarters."

"Oh, righto. Well, then, another time, ladies and gentlemen."

Coran tipped his hat to the archaeologists and police before walking over to the side of the coffin that Lance was standing by. Hunk took the other end and, on the count of three, they lifted it up and carefully moved it to their truck. Lance had a few bruises in places he'd rather not think about, but they had gotten the coffin into the truck in one piece and that's all that mattered. He got settled on the hump of the front seat despite offering to drive. At least Lance could still navigate from the hump. The Smithsonian wasn't too far away from NCIS headquarters, but Coran managed to take them from the Celts all the way up to the 18th century by the time Hunk was backing up into the garage. Which, due to a terrible lay out design, but at the moment conveniently, was the evidence room. Lance did not want to think about what would happen if they had to carry the coffin further into the building. Pidge was there waiting for them, wearing the orange coveralls they had to wear when going through over sized evidence.

"It's about time you got here," they said once the three of them exited the truck. There was no real malice behind the words, however. "Team Kogane beat you here, Team Smythe."

"I reeeeeeeally doubt that," Lance said as he unlocked the truck's back door, opening it slightly, but not all the way. He wanted to save the surprise for as long as he could. "Shiro and the new girl were still getting statements after the local policemen took their's."

"Well, New Girl must be good. They've been here and gone already, to notify next of kin, that I didn't even see them. Speaking of New Girl..." Pidge planted their elbows on the roof of the trunk, planted their chin in their hands, and planted their puppy eyes gaze on Lance. "Tell me all about her."

"You'll meet her soon enough. Now help us get this coffin out of the truck."

"You brought me a coffin?!" Pidge asked excitedly, all thoughts of new coworkers forgotten. "Well, I just might have to bump Kashi down and make you my absolute favorite."

"Aw, that's not nice Pidge," Hunk said. He looked honestly distressed.

Lance hugged him as Pidge signed the transfer of evidence logs.

"Hey, don't fret there, big guy. It's no different than Coran's height ranking system."

"Precisely Number Two," Coran chimed in, having been surprisingly quiet up until that point. "With a new addition to our team, it's important, more now than ever, to remember that we are a family. No one is actually picking favorites."

'Oh, sweet, innocent Coran,' Lance thought. None of them were being completely serious (Even Hunk was probably about a third serious) but the little pep talk was still greatly appreciated. He deserved a hug too, and after that it was only fair if he gave Pidge one as well.

"Not that this isn't super nice," Pidge said, their voice strained as Hunk's arms squeezed them tight, "but I wanna get to my coffin now."

"Of course you do, you weirdo," Lance muttered.

Between the four of them, they got the coffin out in about a third of the time it took them to load it. Lance had known that Pidge must have been secretly buff. Then it was only a matter of unloading the rest of the evidence onto the examination table and Lance was saying goodbye to his coworkers (or family, that is, if you were to ask Coran) so he could head up to his desk and hopefully anticipate what Keith would ask him to do next before he had a chance to ask.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

See, the thing was, Takashi had been in Allura's shoes not too long ago. Being the newbie wasn't fun at any job, but there was something about working at NCIS that made it ten times worse. And considering he was related to the team leader didn't win him any favors (not that he would want it to). The whole first week, Lance had only called him probie to the point that Takashi thought he didn't actually know what his name was. But then, the next week, it wasn't like it got any better. That's when Lance gave him the nickname Shiro (and it's dozens of variations).

Although he kind of secretly loved the nickname. God forbid Lance ever found that out. He'd probably start teasing him for that on top of coming up with all those silly nicknames and then they would never get anything done. 

Or worse. He'd stop calling him Shiro completely. He wouldn't know what to do then.

Anyway, the point was that Takashi was going to do everything in his power to make Allura feel at home. Even if it was abundantly clear that interviews were not what she had done at Altea Agency as they talked to Petty Officer Clark's sister (because of course she didn't listen to Keith's orders) and she continued to dig a deeper hole for herself. Within minutes, the two women were on the defensive and Takashi was afraid he was going to have to get between them in case things got physical. 

"Officer David didn't mean to imply that you didn't care for your brother, Miss Clark," he said, holding his hands up in what he hoped was a calming manner.

"That is exactly what I was implying," Allura muttered under her breath. Thankfully Miss Clark didn't hear her.

"No, it's alright," Miss Clark said with a defeated sigh. She collapsed into a chair before looking back up at them. "Maybe Grey was hiding something from me, and it had caused a rift between the two of us. I just didn't want to admit it."

"Any idea what it was that he was hiding?" Takashi asked.

"If I did, do you think I'd be unable to answer any of your questions? It's like I'm not even a part of his life anymore. Was. I mean, was a part of his life."

She started to cry upon the reality of the situation settling in, and Takashi gave her a moment to collect herself. Allura was obviously getting restless waiting, and she was shifting from foot to foot anxiously. Or perhaps it was that she was just uncomfortable? Takashi never had really given it thought, but most people's jobs didn't involve giving someone the worst news of their lives. Not that it ever got easier delivering that news. Takashi had simply become better at hiding how nervous their tears made him. He put on a sympathetic face and lent a shoulder if it was required.

"I'm sorry," Miss Clark said eventually. "I know none of this is your fault. Don't shoot the messenger and all that."

"Precisely," Allura said. Takashi discreetly kicked her ankle. "I mean, your apology is accepted, Miss Clark."

Miss Clark nodded her head slowly and then pushed herself back up out of the chair.

"Well, I suppose you'll want to go through his things."

"Uh, well, yes," Takashi said, slightly confused. "We'll be going to his apartment as part of our investigation."

"Oh, I figured that much. I meant his things that he kept here."

"If you two were not as close as you used to be, why would your brother keep things in your residence?" Allura asked.

"You must not have brothers," Miss Clark said with a wry laugh.

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Allura muttered.

This time Takashi simply ignored her.

"Yes, we'd appreciate if we could take a look at what he kept here if you don't mind."

Miss Clark led them to a small cupboard outside the kitchen, motioned to the top shelf, and excused herself so she could begin making calls to the rest of the family. There was not too much of interest on the shelf at first (a couple of video games, a half finished bird house, paint and paint brushes) but then Takashi found the small wooden box shoved to the back of the shelf. To the point where he was surprised it hadn't fallen off. Inside was a solitary key.

"Now that looks important," Allura said as she set aside the yearbook she had been paging through.

"Oh, definitely," Takashi agreed. "Now, this probably makes it obvious I've been at this job far too long, but I've seen enough of these kind of keys to know that it belongs to a safety deposit box at a bank not too far from NCIS head quarters."

"Well, then, it would only make sense for us to make a stop there before reporting back in, would it not?"

Takashi found he couldn't say no even if he had tried. Allura's little grin was very convincing.

And, well, it had been awhile since he'd been on much of an adventure.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Akira Keith Kogane spent about 75% of his time wondering 'How did I get here?' A good portion of that time overlapped with the time he spent in his garage working on his motorcycles. Having spent years hopping from foster home to foster home, leaving trouble in his wake, he was amazed to become a federal agent. Thankfully, Takashi's family and the auto shop classes they paid for him to attend ended up saving him. Red was his favorite bike and at this point, it was almost as if he had built her from scratch with all the parts he had switched out with better ones. He was starting to contemplate doing just that, building his very own motorcycle, as he was replacing Black's suspension. He always worked on his bikes during cases when he needed to clear his head, which was pretty much every case, so he knew enough that he should be able to do it.

Something was bothering him about Petty Officer Grey Clark.

Pidge and Lance hadn't found anything untoward while doing his background check. Pidge was working on the cellphone that had been in the coffin, and hopefully they found something that would suggest why someone would want him dead. Because at the moment, they were all coming up with nothing.There also was the possibility that Takashi and Officer David had found something, but they hadn't reported back. Considering they were in the middle of a murder investigation, Keith should probably be worried, but Takashi was his brother. He knew he could hold his own. Even better than Keith could because he knew how to keep a level head. And as much as he didn't like Director Iverson sticking his nose into his business, he had to admit that Officer David should prove to be a vital addition to their team. He had a feeling that if anything were to happen, well, he'd hate to be the other guy in that situation.

That didn't mean he wasn't still unhappy about the whole thing.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lance had been spinning around in Pidge's desk chair, which he had rolled out into the main lab area, and everything had been alright until he went flying into the filing cabinet. That wasn't much of a problem (except for Lance's knee cap) because the thing was practically indestructible, but the jolt that went through the cabinet caused Pidge's CD player to skip and her stuffed space caterpillar, Rover, to fall onto the floor. No one messed with Rover.

"Lance," Pidge said through gritted teeth, "don't you have anywhere else you need to be? Anywhere?"

"Not really. Keith went to brood in his garage, Takashi and Allura haven't returned yet, and Coran and Hunk are doing the autopsy -- which, yuck -- so, no. Not really."

"And clearly I'm not busy," Pidge said as they rolled their eyes. They had the cellphone on the table, back cracked open, and tweezers in hand, though they hadn't gotten much further than that. "I really need to get this done. Not just 'cause that's my job, but because as much as I love technology, and taking it apart, and figuring out what makes it tick, I want to move onto the coffin. A coffin, Lance. You guys brought me a coffin."

"You're actually really morbid, aren't you?" Lance asked. He wheeled the desk chair back in place before Pidge could respond. "Alright, let me dust off Rover, and then I'll be out of your hair."

"Thank you, Lance," Pidge said, nose stuck in the cell's inner workings. "We can hang out later, honestly. Just after..."

"The coffin. Yeah, yeah."

Lance took the stairs to the main floor so he could delay the inevitable boredom for as long as possible. Yes, boredom. Most people didn't realize that there was a ridiculous amount of time doing the most menial tasks or even just sitting around doing nothing while they waited for the answers to come together in their heads. Now, don't get Lance wrong: he loved his job. That didn't mean he had to love every part of it. Getting to help people at the end of the day made it all worth it. But with Shiro and Officer Allura David still M.I.A. there wasn't anything for Lance to do besides twiddle his thumbs. At least it looked like Keith was back. There was one of those giant cans of Monster sitting on his desk. You know, the ones that frankly should be illegal. Lance stuck his tongue out at the offensive drink and immediately felt Keith's hand hit the back of his head.

"We have got to stop meeting like this," Lance said as he turned around to face his boss.

"Then don't knock it 'til you try it," Keith said. He sounded as tired as the 32 ounces suggested he was. "We've got a long night ahead of us if we want to find our motive. Have my brother and Officer David returned yet?"

"Nope. Still haven't heard from them."

Keith growled (he actually growled) as he pulled out his phone and started dialing.

"What in God's name could those two be up to?"

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"It's a map," Takashi said. "Hand drawn by the look of it."

"It is," Allura agreed as she leaned in to the study the map. "Incredibly detailed, too. This must have taken a long time for the person to draw out."

Takashi and Allura had stopped at the bank on the way back to NCIS head quarters as planned and, with a flash of Takashi's badge, the bank manager had led them to the safety deposit boxes where they had easily found Petty Officer Clark's box. The manger left them to it, probably figuring there would be a decent amount of evidence for them to go through, which Takashi was grateful for either way. They were surprised when all they found inside the safety deposit box was the rolled up map, but it was never fun having someone breathe down his neck while he was trying to work, so it definitely worked out for them.

"Alright. Well, I'm going to take pictures to document the evidence," Takashi explained, "and then you can carefully put it in one of the evidence bags I gave you."

"Understood," Allura said just as an alarm went off.

"We're evacuating the building," the manager said as she rushed into the room. In the few minutes since they'd seen her, her perfect hair had fallen out of its bun, her suit was rumpled, and she had a mad look in her eye. "There's a fire and everyone must evacuate immediately."

"Okay, I can understand the urgency," Takashi said calmly. "I just have to photograph this map first. It's important evidence in a murder investigation. Then we'll leave the building, I promise."

"No time," the manager said. She was stronger than she looked, pushing Takashi and Allura out the door before either of them could protest.The door locked behind them with a clang, although they could barely hear it over all the commotion that was going on. There was the alarm itself, of course, and the noise of the customers being herded out by the bank's employees. Outside, the sound of a siren steadily approached. It was taking far too long to evacuate everyone since the only exit was a revolving door, but thankfully everyone had made it outside before anyone was injured. Although the urgency seemed like an over reaction considering Takashi didn't see any sign of a fire. There were firetrucks parked up and down the street, but now that he was thinking about it, Takashi hadn't seen any smoke as they had been rushed to the door. One of the fire fighters pulled the bank manager aside, presumably to discuss the situation, and Takashi knew they weren't going to get another chance like this. He motioned to Allura, and thankfully the symbol for 'be quiet' was universal, and the two of them slipped back through the door before the bank manager or the fire fighter had a chance to notice it spinning.

First thing Takashi noticed was that there still was no smoke in the building. In fact, everything looked perfectly fine. Well, other than the building being completely empty -- something Takashi would never get used to when it came to investigating places that were normally full of people. The silence would play tricks on his mind, and he'd start seeing some where there was nothing but air.

Second thing he noticed was that the door to the room where the safety deposit boxes were located was no longer locked, light peaking out from where it was slightly ajar.

"That door did lock behind us when we left, right?" he asked Allura.

"It most certainly did," Allura confirmed. She instinctively reached for her sidearm, forgetting that Keith had declared she wasn't allowed to carry during her probationary period.

Takashi had his weapon drawn as he eased the door open the rest of the way. He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, but he couldn't allow anything to distract him now. He cleared the room easily enough since it was small and nothing but solid walls of boxes. Nowhere to hide. It was exactly as they had left it -- except for one minor difference.

"Well, it appears we have found our fire," Allura said.

Takashi could only stare in disbelief at the pile of ashes where the map had been not five minutes before.

"We didn't even get a single picture," he said, fighting back tears. "Keith is going to kill me."

Allura patted him on the shoulder.

"I would not fret, Takashi. He is your brother. I am sure he will understand."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but you don't know Keith. I don't get favors, and even if I did, this is one major screw up. That map could have been what we needed to figure out the motive. It probably was."

"Then do not worry. I can draw a new one. Granted, it will not look as beautiful as the lost one, but I will make sure every detail is there."

"You can do that?"

"Yes. I got a good look at it, and I am really good with details."

"You must have a photographic memory," Takashi said as the voices of a very angry bank manager and a very confused fire fighter approached. "Anyway, we can do that when we get to the car. Get ready to make our great escape."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lance was desperate.

They had no leads, he was bored, and now Keith was pacing around the office, yelling into his phone.

Apparently Takashi wasn't answering. He was going to get an earful once he returned to NCIS head quarters. Or once he listened to any of the twenty voice mails Keith had left for him. There was nothing Lance could do for him now, so he slunk off to the elevator, hit the button for the basement, and made his way to the computer lab. God, just thinking those two words cost him cool points. But if anyone could find a motive as little evidence as they had, it was Matthew Holt.

He was Pidge's older brother, because apparently NCIS was a family business. While Pidge was a whiz with most electronics themselves, Matt was the hacker (for lack of a better term) of the two. Lance was pretty sure some of what he did had to be illegal and Director Iverson was turning a blind eye. But it was for the greater good, so it was alright then. 

Wasn't it?

The sounds of keys clacking greeted Lance as he pushed open the door and walked straight into a bunch of boxes which promptly fell over. He tripped over a few but managed to catch himself by grabbing onto the edge of the nearest desk.

"Oh my God, were you guys raised in a barn?" he asked.

"Don't think many farmers have much use for hard drives with a terabyte worth of memory," said one of the hunched over figures typing away at the desks. Most were wearing hoodies and Lance could only tell it was Olia because of her naturally raspy voice.

"Hard drives?" Lance asked staring at the boxes that were each big enough for fifty or so hard drives. "How many did you order?"

"As many as we could get away with," replied none other than Matthew Holt. He had been facing away from Lance and dramatically spun his computer chair around. That paired with the evil villain like statement was probably meant to be vaguely threatening, but the effect was immediately ruined as he waved at him with a big smile on his face. "Hi Lance! Must be a special occasion if your down here in my neck of the woods."

Lance winced. He had hoped it wasn't obviously that he avoided most people with the word 'technician' in their job description (Pidge excluded) but he supposed considering he visited everyone else all the time, it must have been super obvious. That was actually pretty insensitive of him, and he made a pact with himself right there that he'd be nicer to the tech gremlins. Oh, well, first he should probably stop referring to them as tech gremlins in his head.

"I was hoping you could work your magic for me on a Petty Officer Grey Clark."

"You should know better. I'm not that easy, Lance," Matt said, pouting and crossing his arms.

"And I'm not that stupid." 

Lance pulled the Nutter Butter that he had bought from the break room's vending machine as a peace offering and tossed it to Matt.

"See?" Matt said to the rest of the techs as he pointed to Lance with the end of the candy bar. "Me and this guy? We have an understanding. You might want to learn from him."

Olia flipped him off while everyone else ignored him and kept typing.

"Ah, screw you guys." After taking a huge bite out of the candy bar, Matt turned back to his computer and started typing a mile a minute. "So, Petty Officer Clark, was it?"

"That's the one." Lance leaned over, resting his hand on Matt's desk, so he could watch what he was doing, but realized that was going to be too much of a strain on his back. "Do you have an extra chair I could use?"

"Absolutely not."

"Alright, that's fair," Lance muttered. He straightened his back, however, even though he wouldn't be able to see that well. Matt would tell him if he found anything interesting. "So... how are... things?"

"'Things'? Wow, things are good," Matt replied, sarcasm evident despite speaking with his mouth full. "I haven't seen you since we last went bowling. Which was, like, what? Two months ago. You'll have to be a little more specific than that."

"Uh..." Lance idly scratched his cheek. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"I can see you right now." Matt sniggered which caused bits of Nutter Butter landing on his keyboard. It didn't seem to slow him down as he kept typing faster than Lance could ever even dream of. "Okay, yeah. I've been on a few dates here and there but nothing serious. That is, if you're worried I'm going to break Shiro's heart."

"What? No," Lance spluttered. "That was years ago, and an amicable split, from what I understand, since you both wanted different things. And, I mean, it's none of my business anyway, so, whatever. I was just making small talk."

Matt rolled his eyes.

"Sure." 

Luckily the computer pinged at that moment and saved Lance from Matt's unsolicited dating advice. It had to have been just normal run-of-the-mill dating advice he was going to give Lance, and not advice about Takashi, right?

"Alright. Petty Officer Clark. Joined the Navy right out of high school. Pretty average sailor. No disorderlies but no commendations or recommendations either. Buuuuut, you already know all of that, didn't you?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response," Lance said as he planted his hands on his hips.

"What you might not know, though," Matt continued on, ignoring Lance's non-response, "is that our petty officer had a secret bank account located in Switzerland. And before you ask, no. There is no record of him ever having visited Switzerland either."

Lance rubbed his hands together, now looking like the movie villain.

"Oh, that is good. Now, why would a law abiding citizen need a secret bank account?"

"Oh, I'm sure there could be plenty of reasons."

"I can think of at least five off the top of my head," Olia chimed in.

"Or, more likely, he was not a law abiding citizen, and I found my motive."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but you still don't know where the money came from," Olia pointed out. "I mean, sure a lot of money is usually a good enough motive, but the source might be what you're actually looking for."

"Motive two!" Matt yelled, throwing the candy bar wrapper across the room. 

Lance couldn't be sure if he had been aiming for the trash can and his aim was actually that bad or if he hadn't been aiming for anything since he had missed by at least ten feet. Olia and the other computer techs seemed to get whatever the joke was, though, and were laughing.

"Okay, well, thank you Matt. And everyone else by association. You may have just cracked the case."

"Of course I did. I'm the best," Matt said. The last word ended up more of a yelp when Olia leaned over and smacked him. "Ouch. Okay, I mean, you're welcome. Just make sure you give credit where credit is due, though. Let Keith know I helped. Don't take it all for yourself."

"Nope. I'm totally taking all the credit for everything," Lance joked. He tried to give a villainous laugh his best attempt as he walked backward out of the computer lab, shooting finger guns at the techs.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Keith! Matt found something that just blew this case wide open," Lance said as he ran toward their desks.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Keith and Takashi watching intently as Allura drew something -- while sitting Romelle's desk.

"What's going on?" he asked, hoping his voice wasn't as icy as the blood in his veins. "Glad to see you two are alive, by the way. Did you get lost? Like, on your way to your desk?"

"Could you keep it down, please, Lance?" Takashi asked, not commenting on how rude Lance had been. God, he was too kind. Although, he hadn't even bothered to look up when he spoke. "Allura's trying to concentrate."

'Who cares about her concentration?' Lance thought. Drawing was Romelle's thing.

No, that wasn't fair. Billions of people were artists and drew every day. Being rude to the newest member of the team wasn't going to bring her back, and if it did, Romelle would immediately kick his ass for it once she found out what it had cost.

"So, is this show and tell?"

"We found a map in a security deposit box that Petty Officer Clark had," Takashi explained, catching Lance up on what he and Allura had been up to while they had been gone. "Once Allura's done redrawing the map, we're going to fetch Coran and find us some buried treasure."

"Aw, I want to find buried treasure," Lance said with a fake pout. "Oh wait! I did!"

It was Lance's turn to pass on what he had found out to his team mates. He left out the fine details (specifically Matt roasting him) and no one questioned his rather lack luster, and therefore out of character, story telling. Especially Takashi, since perhaps he _did_ still carry a torch for the tech. Lance wouldn't blame him if he did. Matt was funny, incredibly intelligent, cute yet hot at the same time. Hell, he was even able to rock the long hair look, which Lance could never no matter how hard he tried. He didn't stand a chance against that. Maybe if he stopped pulling Takashi's pigtails, so to speak, all the time. Not like he had a thing for Takashi. No. Nope. Not at all. And even if he did, not thinking about that. That was neither here nor there. They had a case. That's all that mattered at the moment.

"That can't be a coincidence," Keith said once Lance was done. "The money and the map must be connected and, like Lance said, our motive. Kashi, tell Coran if he isn't done with the autopsy, it's fine. Hunk can finish it. This is the top priority at the moment."

"If I may, uh, intervene?" Allura asked.

"Of course," Takashi said, and then politely added, "and for future instances, I think 'interject' instead of 'intervene' was what you were looking for."

"Oh, yes, thank you. So, I was wondering if Dr. Smythe is the coroner, why would we be taking him away from the autopsy to come with us to follow the map?"

"Coran also happens to be an expert map reader," Keith explained. "Among many other things. He's of the firm belief one should never stop learning."

"Why, I completely agree. I think the two of us will get along. Now I feel I will be a little self conscious about my map, however. I was focused on making sure all the details were there rather than on how appealing they looked."

"Oh, I'm sure it's great. He'll be able to read it and get us where we need to go. He's going to love the whole thing, especially your map," Lance assured her. He still hadn't seen it for himself, but he knew it to be true. Whether it was gallery worthy or not, Coran would love it for the thought put into it. He still leaned over so he could take a peak. "It's really good! It looks legit."

"'Legit'? You forgot half of the word, did you not?"

"Oh, I am going to love teaching you American slang. Oh, do you know Spanish?"

"Si lo hago! Francais aussi! Und nicht zu prahlen... motto takusan."

"Aw. I wanted to teach you Spanish slang, too," Lance said with a pout.

"I assure you, my knowledge of most of the languages I speak is purely formal. You can still teach me slang."

Lance's face lit up, but Keith quickly squashed his excitement.

"I assure you two, there will be time for that after we catch our murderer."

"The car ride to the woods in the map --" With that, Lance pointed pointedly at the map. "-- is going to take awhile. Are we supposed to sit in silence the whole time?"

"You won't be going, Lance. You and I have to visit Pidge and then Hunk and see what they've found out. We do still have to investigate the other aspects of the case."

"Oh, I don't think Pidge will like me bothering them again," Lance muttered.

"Keith," Takashi cut in. "While I appreciated all the time in the field I've been getting, shouldn't Lance get some time to work with Officer David?"

"He's got a point. Why deprive our newest probie of my delightful charm?"

Lance winked at Allura which earned him a sharp slap with the rolled up map.

"Okay. You're right," Keith agreed far too easily. There had to be a catch. "Lance, head down to the morgue and let Coran know about the plan of action." There it was. "And take his truck. He's probably still sad that he didn't get to drive very far to the crime scene."

Oh no. That was the catch.

"Keith, buddy. Oh, samurai of mine. You know Coran isn't' supposed to drive."

Keith shrugged.

"His licence wasn't revoked. That's good enough for me."

"You're evil," Lance muttered as he practically stomped his way to the elevator.

Lance wasn't a coward. He couldn't be when his job required him to put his life on the line more often than not. Even as a child, he never had been afraid of the dark or the boogey man or his overly touchy feely Tia Maria with her bright red lipstick that stained his cheeks and her pinches that left bruises on his arms. Since growing up and taking the job at NCIS, he had faced down extortionists, murders, and politicians. He dealt with photographing and collecting evidence from bodies day in and day out. There was no reason for him to be scared of the morgue. Like, they were the same bodies. Just now cleaned and on an operating table.

And yet he was terrified.

He stood at the end of the hall for about five minutes before he could gather the courage to approach the door. Then it took him another five or so before he could knock. Hunk's smiling face appeared through the glass door and thank goodness for that. If he could see him smiling that meant no surgical mask and no surgical mask meant they must be done with the autopsy.

An empty, cold, dark morgue was better than a cold, dark morgue with bodies lying out on those unfeeling, sterilized tables. Sure, the bodies would be covered, but Lance would know the stitches were there. Oh, the stitches might be the worst part.

"Hey Lance," Hunk said as he opened the door, although there was a slot so you could talk through it when it was closed. Hunk was just that polite. "We were about to call upstairs and see what was taking Keith so long. He usually is down here just as we're finishing up. It's actually kind of freaky."

"Oh, yeah, there was a bit of an incident," Lance said with a wave of his hand. "I'm sure you'll hear all about it. Sadly, I am here for Coran, and not to gossip with you. I mean, it's not sad that I'm here for Coran, just sad that we can't talk. Anyway, we have a map."

"Did I hear someone say there's a map?" Coran asked, appearing behind Hunk as fast as lightning.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were a ghost, Coran."

"I'm not dead yet, my dear boy. Now, show me this map."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hunk was the best coroner in the state. Well, next to Coran that was, but even though Coran was technically the mentor, he had learned just as much from Hunk as Hunk had from him. At this point, everyone was positive the only reason Hunk hadn't started applying for a permanent position elsewhere was because of the fact that he and Coran worked so well together. Takashi knew they would all miss him. He had become an integral part of their team since Coran had announced he had found the student assistant he had been looking for.

Now they had to extend the same kindness to Allura. He knew deep down they had it in them. Some (mainly Lance) only had to be reminded that they were allowed to be happy while still mourning Romelle. It would be difficult, but she wouldn't want them to wallow in self pity rather than live their lives.

Romelle had been a probie once. Takashi had heard tales of the pranks that Lance had played on her while he had still been working down in the evidence room. Even Keith had been a probie, a long time ago, despite NCIS legend that he had been born an agent. Which, that legend had surprisingly lasted even after Takashi had been hired and started spilling the beans concerning the mysterious Special Agent Akira Keith Kogane. With his permission, of course. In fact, he kind of loved it; Takashi telling the agents down in the evidence room about his stuffed hippo that he carried around everywhere well into his early teens.

Because none of them believed Takashi.

"Cause of death was pretty obvious once you get past all the mummified-ness," Hunk explained, using the most, shall we say, layman of terms for everyone's benefit. "Petty Officer Clark was shot. Hit his right ventricle. He would have bled out in minutes."

"The bullet's been sent up to Pidge?" Keith asked.

"Yes sir!" Hunk said and gave them a salute, before remembering he was wearing gloves. Luckily, he had on his trademark head band, and that prevented any possible mummified-ness getting into his hair. He promptly disposed of his gloves and put the head band in a bag to take home and wash. "I doubt they would have had time to analyze it yet," he continued as he scrubbed his hands. "I can tell you this much... it's a . 44."

"Yeah, no, of course. We gave them a lot of evidence to go through," Takashi said, nodding his head.

"Any other evidence from the body?"

"Ooh, yes. Here comes the fun part. That wasn't the first time Petty Officer Clark had been shot. He had several old, technically 'superficial,' bullet wounds that had healed badly. Which makes sense considering..."

"He sustained no injuries during his tours of Afghanistan," Takashi finished for him.

"And none in his previous medical records. I double checked. Petty Officer Clark didn't want anyone to know about these injuries."

"Thanks Hunk," Keith said, a rare smile on his face. "Between that information and the map Takashi and Officer David found, we're finally making some leeway on this case."

"Oh, yeah, I heard all about the map. That sounded like a lot of fun. But, I mean, I did find some treasure of my own."

"You mean the bullet?" Takashi asked.

"Bulletssssss," Hunk said, sounding like a balloon whose helium was escaping.

"You're becoming as cryptic as Coran," Keith said through gritted teeth. As Hunk was expressing his thanks, he continued, "It's starting to get a little bit on my nerves. There's a time and place for this. Which is not in the middle of a murder investigation."

"Oh, sorry, I just got caught up in the drama of it all. I found another bullet, lodged in Petty Officer Clark's left arm. Well, me and Coran found it. And it was a very special bullet. Tipped with gold. Etched with..."

"Bat wings," Keith and Takashi said at the same time.

"Oh, wow. Coran said you would recognize it, but that was eerie. So, what's so very special about this bullet?"

"La Chauve-Souris," Keith said. In that moment, he looked older than his years. "One of the most prolific arms dealers in the world. That bullet is his calling card."

"Although we doubt he's ever actually fired one of those," Takashi said with a sigh. "He's one of NCIS's most wanted, and we have absolutely no information on him other than an alias and those bullets. Even Pidge couldn't trace them to anything."

"His picture in every file is a blank silhouette."

Hunk's face fell.

"I'm sorry I ended up delivering bad news, then. I thought it was good news."

"Hey, don't worry," Takashi said, patting Hunk's back. "This time he may have gotten sloppy. Or, I mean, whoever it was may have gotten sloppy. Given us something to work with. Then it'll be good news."

"Now that we know that Petty Officer Clark had a run in with La Chauve-Souris's men, then I think I know what he was hiding in the woods. I've got to call Coran and Lance... and Officer David. Warn them."

"The bullet that killed him? That wasn't La Chauve-Souris's calling card, was it?" Takashi asked. Hunk shook his head. "Maybe Petty Officer Clark's death isn't related and they're not walking into a dangerous situation? Well, any more dangerous then it'd normally be."

Hunk walked around the autopsy table and pulled Takashi into a hug.

"Don't worry, Shiro. Lance will be alright. He's our Sharpshooter after all."

'I wasn't only worried about Lance,' Takashi thought, but protesting would make it even more obvious that he might have been just a little bit more worried about Lance in particular. Considering how obvious it already was to Hunk, apparently.

"And for the second time today, no one is answering their god damn phones," Keith said. He threw his phone across the room, the poor thing smashing to pieces as it hit the wall.

"I'll go see if Matt has any more extra phones for Keith in the computer lab," Hunk said, probably more as an excuse to leave than anything else, and hurried out of the morgue.

"They better hope they ran into trouble," Keith said. "Because if they aren't, I am going to make their lives a living hell when they get back."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"And that's why they call me The Sharpshooter," Lance said, finishing up his story as Coran and Allura navigated ahead of him.They had been wandering around the woods for what felt like hours. Allura had assured him it had barely been ten minutes. Well, it wasn't Lance's fault he wasn't exactly in tune with nature. Plus, there was the small matter that he was the one who got stuck carrying the shovel. Alright, he hadn't gotten stuck with it. He couldn't let Coran carry it. That wouldn't be good for his back, and despite his love of messing with probies, his mama had raised him to be more of a gentlemen than to make a woman carry a shovel.

"That is fascinating," Allura said. It was hard to tell, but Lance was pretty sure she was trying to be sarcastic.

"He _does_ hold all the top scores at the NCIS shooting range, our dear Number Three," Coran chimed in. "It's quite impressive."

"Thank you, Coran."

"Though, I don't think anyone other than Hunk calls him Sharpshooter."

"What? That's not true," Lance protested.

He had been holding a branch that had grown over the trail out of his way, but he lost his grip and it snapped back and hit him in the face. It was a miracle it didn't knock him off his feet.

"Perhaps it would be best if you talked less and walked more, yes?" Allura asked. Lance could just imagine the smug look on her face. "So, sew it."

"Oh," Lance said, actually pausing for a moment in the middle of the trail. "That's actually pretty terrifying to think about."

Allura glanced over her shoulder, offering Lance a soft smile.

"I got the phrase wrong? I apologize."

"Hey, no worries. Yours is much more threatening, so technically I'd say it works better."

Allura laughed.

"Well, thank you. And I am sorry for getting testy. I suppose I am not accustomed to..."

"Chatty coworkers?" Lance offered, and it was his turn to laugh. "It's alright. We'll get used to working with each other in no time. And in case you don't want to use you version next time, it's 'zip it.'"

"'Zip it.' I see. Thank you, Lance."

"That was the most mature handling of an argument I have ever seen," Coran said, tearing up.

He pulled the two of them into a bone crushing hug. Used to Hunk's hugs, Lance easily went along with it, but Allura was clearly uncomfortable. She said nothing, however, probably not wanting to offend Coran. Well, it was her first day on the job. Lance couldn't blame her for not wanting to rock the boat. He, on the other hand, had no such qualms. Rock it? Hell, he'd knock it over.

"I'm loving all the love, but we better go find our treasure before Keith gets angry."

"You do have a point, my dear boy. Allura, shall we?"

They hiked down the trail for another three miles before the map indicated to take a right turn into the woods.

"As if this trail wasn't bad enough," Lance muttered to himself before adding for the other two, "I'm going to call Keith and let him know we're going off the beaten path."

Lance pulled his cell out of his pants pocket only to be greeted by that dreaded no signal symbol. He slapped his phone against his leg a few times, just in case, but it didn't help (obviously). When he looked back up, Allura was staring at him like he was crazy.

"No signal," he explained. "Wonder how long we've been without one."

"Oh, Lance, live a little," Coran said, extending his arms out. "Forget about technology. Enjoy the nature all around you."

"We're on the clock. Enjoying anything doesn't really factor into it," Lance grumbled.

He trampled after them, though, because there wasn't anything else he could do, short of sending Keith some smoke signals.

Damn, why did he have to put on his good Italian shoes that morning?

Now that they were 'off the beaten path,' the map was taking them on quite the journey: weaving left and right, passing through clusters of trees, and even crossing a small stream that Lance hadn't been aware was in their area. Now it definitely felt as if they'd been wandering around the woods for hours. Lance's feet hurt and he had several cuts on his face from branches that had hit him. He supposed he was lucky he still hadn't fallen right on his ass. Any longer, however, and he was going to throw the shovel away and head back to the car.

"Alright, there should be a clearing coming up in 100 yards," Allura said. "To the east."

"'East,' she says. 'East.' Like I know what that means," Lance cried out, breathless, but he managed to get his agitation across loud and clear. "Right or left?"

"That way," she answered, pointing to where they had to go.

"Even simpler. I love it."

With the end in sight, it was as if they reached the clearing in a blink of an eye. Lance almost burst into happy tears when he noticed that a hole had already been dug by someone else and that their 'treasure' seemed to have not been touched. Even if those cases were empty, Lance knew what had been in them. He'd know those types of cases anywhere.

"He was an arms dealer," Allura said as Lance spat out,"Fuck."

"I thought you were The Sharpshooter," Allura teased. "Shouldn't you be happy our 'treasure' is guns? Are guns?" 

"Despite my first language being English, that sentence is still a bit of a tricky one," Coran said. "But we can discuss that at a later time. Lance's concern is..."

"La Chauve-Souris."

"The Bat?" Allura asked. "I am afraid I do not know what that means."

"As you pointed out, an arms dealer," Coran explained. "I am terribly sorry, Lance. I should have mentioned it before we left, but during the autopsy, we found one of his bullets in an older would. Petty Officer Clark must have gotten caught up with him in order to supplement his income, if I were to guess."

"On a petty officer's salary, I guess I can't blame him. Extra cash, even if earned illegally, has a certain appeal," Lance said with a scoff. "Alright, let's photograph, tag, and bag and then get the hell out of here."

"I cannot argue with that," Allura said. She looked at the cache of guns wearily, but just for a moment. When she turned toward Lance to offer the supplies out of the backpack she'd been carrying, she had put on a brave face.

The three of them donned gloves and got down to work. Allura had gotten the hang of the camera back at the Smithsonian, so she took the photographs while Coran placed everything in evidence bags, and Lance labeled each before walking it over to the edge of the clearing for when they had to carry it back to the van. (Which he definitely wasn't looking forward to.) He started a pile about ten yards from where they had entered in case some curious hiker had followed them. Or that's what he told himself. It wasn't like he was worried any of Petty Officer Clark's accomplices were going to show up.

He was propping an AK-47 case up against a tree when he heard a vaguely familiar voice demand that Allura and Coran 'put their hands up.' His first thought was how this person managed to get past him without snapping a branch or two, thus alerting him to their company. His second thought, of course, was that obviously didn't matter now. He had to do something to help his partners. He was lucky that his quick thinking (oh, well, and his paranoia) led him to storing the guns away from the clearing's entrance. Whoever it was that was threatening Allura and Coran hadn't seen him.

And speaking of, who was it that was threatening them? The voice had sounded vaguely familiar but he couldn't recognize the person from behind.

"I'm amazed you still found this clearing without the map," they said, beginning their super villain speech thus giving Lance time to formulate a plan. "You must have known the map 'burning' was no coincidence, let alone an accident."

"Yes, we figured as much," Coran confirmed.

"Yes, I paid the bank manager to evacuate the building and torch it. She unfortunately hadn't put on a worthy enough performance. And yet you realized someone was after the guns and came out here by yourselves. How foolish."

"Yes, that was extremely foolish of us. The two of us," Allura said. She might as well have winked at Lance over the person's shoulder, but thankfully they were so caught up in monologuing that they hadn't noticed how obvious it was that Allura was signaling to someone behind them.

"I just don't understand how you got caught up in all of this, Doctor Burns," Coran said.

There it was. The bad guy was the doctor from the Smithsonian who had been opening the coffin. Lance hadn't interviewed her since he was helping Hunk and Coran with the coffin, but he had overheard parts of her statement. So, she was guilty of illegally selling firearms, but had she killed Petty Officer Clark? Keith didn't believe in coincidences, and her finding her dead accomplice in the coffin she had discovered would be a pretty damn big coincidence. She probably thought the 'hidden in plain sight' approach would keep any suspicion from falling on her, and she would have been right. Matt, the cyber genius that he was, found no connection between the two, and if there _had_ been a tangible connection, he would have found it. If Allura hadn't been able to remember the map, they would have never ran into her as she tried to get rid of the evidence, and they would have been none the wiser. No, she must be guilty of both crimes. Which meant she wouldn't hesitate to murder his friends.

Lance wasn't about to let that happen.

His coworkers might not actually call him The Sharpshooter, as much as he would love them too, because who didn't love a cool nickname? But Coran had not been wrong about all the records he held at the NCIS shooting range. There were also all the records that he held at his local shooting range, but he wasn't one to really brag. 

Well, not one to brag in this particular situation. 

Easing his gun out of its holster, he silently made his way as close as he dared get, keeping his target, Dr. Burns, in his sight while also making sure he didn't step on any twigs that would give him away.

"You say 'caught up' as if I was desperate. As if I didn't have a choice. No, I most certainly chose this. Yes, my job pays more than enough. This wasn't a desperate last act like your friend Petty Officer Clark. He definitely fits the little pitiful sob story that the media will eat up... once this all comes out. I, on the other hand, won't fair so well. We're not in a comic book. People don't love real life villains.

"Oh wow. Lance was entirely too accurate calling it the super villain speech. Something definitely wasn't right with this lady. Still, that didn't mean that Lance wasn't going to not try to bring her in alive. 

Because he was the good guy.

He was close enough now that he was irrevocably sure of his shot.

"Drop the weapon," he said, voice unwavering. "NCIS. You drop the weapon, and we can take care of this as calmly as possible."

Dr. Burns made to turn and Lance cocked his gun.

"Oh no, there's no need to turn around. Drop the gun, Dr. Burns."

The doctor didn't listen and whipped her gun from Allura to pointing straight at Lance. Well, he hadn't wanted to do this, but...

A loud shot rang throughout the woods. Dr. Burns dropped to her knees as she cried out in pain."

Allura. Handcuffs, if you'd please?" he asked as he kept his gun trained on the good doctor. She wasn't going anywhere with a bullet in her shin, but you could never be too safe."

"Really? You want me to make the arrest?"

Allura looked genuinely shocked, and Lance definitely felt bad for how icy he had been at first. And then all that false bravado afterward. He made a promise to himself right then -- once they wrapped up this case, he was taking her out and showing her around the town.

"Yeah, of course. We trusted you with the handcuffs. You can't kill anyone with a pair of handcuffs." Lance couldn't be entirely sure, but it sounded like Allura said 'I would not be sure of that' as she made her way to Dr. Burns and recited her Miranda Rights. Damn... Allura was a bad ass. They'd have to come back to examine that at another time.

Coran had removed the first aid kit from his back pack and started tending to the bullet wound in Dr. Burns's shin. With her job completed, Allura stood to the side awkwardly. Lance walked closer, gun still trained on his target, and slung his left arm around her shoulders.

"So, how would you rate your first case here with NCIS?"

"Please do not touch me."

Lance moved away quickly as if he had been burned.

"Understood."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh, hey, look who finally decided to join the party."

Lance's voice greeted them as Takashi and the others made their way into the clearing. He breathed a sigh of relief. Keith, on the other hand, immediately started in on his lecture.

"What part of 'always answer your phone' do you not understand? Rule #70? Why would you not answer after what happened with Kashi? Do you people enjoy pissing me off?"

"God, Keith, check your god damn bars," Lance said with a huff.

He was already handing off an insane amount of evidence to the techs that Takashi and Keith had brought as part of their back up. As expected from someone involved with La Chauve-Souris, it was all weaponry. And it looked like there was still more in the ground. Allura was down in the hole taking photographs and Coran was sitting with a wounded suspect, neither of which looked terribly happy.

Takashi could not wait to hear the story of what had went down. Knowing Lance, they were bound to get one hell of a retelling.

Keith stared at the back up phone that Hunk had found for him before they had left NCIS head quarters and started grumbling.

"I hate technology."

"Now, Takashi straight up ignored you, in case you forgot about that."

"Thanks for sticking up for me," Takashi muttered, but he smiled at Lance once he wasn't looking. "I guess I'll help you with the evidence despite that."

"You guys are lucky I don't rely on a stupid smartphone," Keith said as he pulled out his radio. 

"Nice oxymoron," Lance said with a laugh.

Keith glared at him some more.

"I'm going to get an ambulance for our professor."

"Doctor," Dr. Burns snapped.

"Yeah, whatever."

As Keith wandered off, barking orders into the radio, Takashi helped Lance and the techs with their assembly line through the woods. It was slow going at first since the first trip, the techs at the end of the line had to walk the whole way back, carting heavy gun cases. Once they had people evenly spaced along the trail and through the woods, things started to move faster and smoother. Allura finished up with the photographs, climbed out of the hole, and joined them. Two EMTs had been lead to the clearing by then and had moved Dr. Burns onto a stretcher and had escorted her, followed by Coran, back toward the ambulance.

"You have barely made a dent in moving the guns I have bagged," Allura said after they had moved aside for the EMTs to pass by. "I thought the 'non-probies' would be better at their jobs."

"Special agents, you mean," Lance corrected. "And we've already moved half of the evidence."

Allura's face fell.

"Already half?"

"Welcome to the part of our jobs you won't exactly see in TV shows," Takashi said with a light chuckle.

"I do not watch those types of shows.

"Lance stretched exaggeratedly and yawned.

"Yeeeeah, I bet you're too cool for TV, right?" he asked.

"Oh no, I love television. I love your show Community. Shirley is hilarious."

"Wait, what?"

Lance and Allura ended up in a bit of a heated discussion about Community which thankfully helped the time pass by quickly. Before they knew it, they were back in the evidence room, unloading all the guns. Pidge joined them to help. And, well, mostly to yell at them for visiting Hunk and not them.

"Well, some other slightly pressing matters came up before we could," Takashi said. "And you can still tell us about the coffin now. This is going to take awhile."

"It's kind of pointless now, isn't it?" Pidge asked with a frown. "You caught the bad guy."

"Yeah, but, I mean..." Takashi shrugged. "It's still interesting."

That got him a smile.

"In that case, then, the coffin _was_ actually from the Civil War era..."

As they really started to get into it, Lance, Allura, and the techs had always gathered around to listen. That's how Keith found them half an hour later, having not finished unloading all the evidence.

"What do I actually pay you for?"

"Technically you don't pay us," Lance pointed out. "That's all the Salary Department." Another glare. "But right. We're on it Samurai."

So once again, they got back down to work. Sure, as Takashi had pointed out to Allura earlier, this was not the glamorous part of their job, but even then, they had fun. They finished unloading and organizing the evidence while Pidge finished their story. Then they all said their goodbyes for the moment and headed back to their desks while Pidge started dusting for finger prints.The rest of them had a lot of paperwork to fill out.

Lance especially.

Television may romanticize that part of their job more than any other, but in real life, they did actually try to bring in their suspects without injuring them. (At least their organization.) And obviously not just because it incurred a ton of paperwork.

As they walked into the lobby, Lance's shoulders sagged. Without the constant chatter, the weight of what he had done settled and brought him down. He tried to put on a brave face, but Takashi knew him well enough to not be fooled. He finished up one form before making his way to the break room and fixed some coffee just how Lance liked it. He also grabbed a black one for Allura, too, since he didn't know how she took it. Both of them smiled as he set the cups down on their desks, but sadly it wasn't going to make the night go any faster. Keith had joined them by then after briefing Director Iverson and was -- you guessed it -- filling out his paperwork.

Allura was the first to leave. She had already spent a good portion of the morning filling out all the paperwork needed for her agency to work with NCIS that Keith actually felt sorry for her and told her to go home. Takashi was next. Pidge hadn't found anything in the evidence that they could connect to La Chauve-Souris, so once he filled out his last form, there wasn't much else he could do. He shot Lance a sympathetic look that went unnoticed considering his nose was practically touching the paper he was writing on as he hunched over his desk. At least the pile of what was left to fill out was finally shorter than the pile of what was finished.

Takashi almost felt guilty leaving without Lance, although it wasn't like they left together often. As much as Takashi wished they did. Sure, they saw each other outside of work when they all went out together. Occasionally for a drink and one or two times Pidge and Matt managed to convince them all to go to a concert. But those were the only times he saw Lance other than at NCIS headquarters or a crime scene. 

Takashi wanted to spend more time than that with him. He wanted to take Lance to his favorite coffee shop early in the morning, hold hands over the table as they enjoyed their drinks, and then they'd spend the day at a museum or an art gallery.

He wanted to spend _all_ of his time with Lance. It was frankly getting ridiculous. Like, Takashi was someone who normally valued his alone time. He liked to read and play video games. Which was one of the many reason, in retrospect, that he and Matt wouldn't have worked out. Matt always wanted to play with him, but Takashi always thought that games were best played alone. But he could imagine himself with a book or a controller in hand while Lance was nearby practicing his make up or even playing a game of his own and -- it felt right.

Sure, Takashi had always been a bit of a hopeless romantic, but it was starting to get out of hand. This wasn't a harmless work place crush anymore. He was well and truly falling for Lance.

And the scary part was -- he didn't want to get back up.

He went straight home from work to his one bedroom apartment. Not even a pet to greet him when he walked through the door. The first thing he saw, as he always did, was his ever loyal gaming set up, the headphones still connected to the PC from the last time he had played. He threw his bag onto the desk chair, toed off his shoes, and set about 'making' dinner. Which meant heating up a frozen meal.

Good thing work kept him mostly in shape. Chasing suspects and what not. Because Hungry Man definitely wasn't helping. He was a little rounder around the edges then he had been in college, but that didn't bother him. 'In shape' and 'Hollywood style muscles' actually weren't as synonymous as most people believed. And honestly, not looking like a 'Greek god,' as Adam had put it, had been... relaxing. Sure, he didn't get as much attention as he used to when he went to a bar or a club, but that didn't bother him. He wasn't about to meet the man of his dreams that way.

Not that he had dating on his mind while Lance seemed to occupy the entire thing.

Takashi carried his dinner over to his computer and started up the game he was currently playing. Forgetting that he had tossed his bag on the chair, he swiped it off onto the floor, and plopped down. It was easy enough to play using the mouse and shovel food into his mouth. He was just about to battle the final boss of Level 29 when his phone rang. For a moment, he could have sworn his eyes were playing tricks on him when he saw the caller I.D.

_Lance._

"'Lo?" he said, his mouth still full of mashed potatoes.

"God, that day was loooooooooong," Lance said, by way of greeting. "And, like, I know I should want to go home and sleep, but what I really want is a really stiff drink. What do you say?"

"I say... you're an adult. You can do what you want to do."

Lance laughed, and it was like music to Takashi's ears.

"No, silly. I meant, do you want to come with me? I'm not so pathetic yet to go drinking alone." A short pause. "At least, I hope I'm not that pathetic yet."

"Oh, yeah, no. Of course not. I mean, of course you're not pathetic. In any way. And, yes, I'd love to get a drink with you."

Takashi winced. 'Love to?' That was far too obvious. Thank God Lance seemed to be as oblivious as Takashi was obvious.

"Great! I'm just getting into my car now, so I can be at the Paint Bucket in about 45 minutes. That sound good?"

Takashi glanced down at his half finished meal. There was no way he could eat the rest, change into something a little more bar appropriate, and make it to The Paint Bucket which was on the other side of town in 45 minutes.

"Yeah, sound great," he said. "I'll see you then."

"Awesome!" Lance said, his voice infectiously happy. "Alright, well, catch ya later, Shiro."

Lance hung up and Takashi began to panic as he sat there with his phone hanging limply in his hand.There was no time! Launching out of his chair, he tossed the rest of his dinner in the fridge without bothering to cover it, ran into his bedroom, and quickly searched for something to wear that was bar appropriate. Sadly, the described literally none of his clothes. God, how had he ever managed to pick up before?

Whatever. It was a mystery. One he didn't have time to solve.

Eventually he settled on a plain black tee that fit pretty tight but not so tight that he was uncomfortable, his best pair of jeans, and some strange shoes Matt had bought for him as a present once. He think he called them Weirdos? Wait, no. Creepers.

He tried to give himself a pep talk as he drove to The Paint Bucket, but it didn't really seem to work, so he turned on the radio as loud as it could go. Hopefully it would drown out his thoughts instead.He took a deep breath as he parked his car and walked into the bar. He spotted Lance immediately, but he was sure at this point he had been trained to always find Lance, and the butterflies were back.

'Well,' he though. 'Here goes nothing.'

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lance groaned, hitting his head against the steering wheel. He couldn't believe he had invited Takashi to get a drink. Just the two of them. Not even Keith to act as a buffer between them. What had he been thinking? He was going to make a fool out of himself. Say the wrong thing, drink too much, or worse. Start drunkenly singing Cuban folk songs into Takashi's ear. He had a tendency to do that two or three drinks in. When he did it to Hunk, it was funny, maybe even almost charming, but if he did it to Takashi it would get weird fast. He was like 97% sure Takashi didn't speak Spanish, but the meaning would be pretty obvious from context clues. And anyone with eyes would be able to see that he meant it. Then Takashi would have to gently let him down -- because he would let him down gently because he was that nice of a guy -- and then things would be awkward at work.

Oh so awkward.

As soon as Lance walked into The Paint Bucket, he ordered a double Sex on the Beach and chugged half of it. He wasn't sure if the bartender was judging him for that or his choice of drink, but he wasn't ashamed of either, so fuck him. Lance grabbed a handful of pretzels from the refurbished paint buckets along the bar that they were known for and stuffed a bunch into his mouth. Takashi didn't like him, so therefore he had no one to impress, so who cared? Right?

"Hi Lance," a familiar voice said from behind him and he started to choke around the pretzels. Takashi started patting his back, which wasn't really helping, but he didn't have the heart to tell him that. "Oh my God. I'm so sorry, Lance. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just peachy." Lance took a sip of his drink to help wash everything down. "I think my eyes were just bigger than my stomach. Or, my mouth, rather. So, what are you drinking? First one's on me."

"Oh no, I couldn't let you do that," Takashi said, looking flustered.

Lance refused to get his hopes up that the flush on Takashi's cheeks meant anything. Despite being smart, handsome, and genuinely nice, his natural state seemed to be flustered.

"Hey, I'm the one who dragged you all the way over here to keep me company," Lance explained. "It's the least I an do."

"I suppose that's a good point. Alright then. I'll just take a light beer. Whatever's on tap."

Lance flagged down the bartender, gave him Takashi's order plus ordered another Sex on the Beach for himself, and then quickly threw back the rest of his first drink when he realized there was still a sip or two left. 

"Was that your first drink?" Takashi asked once the bartender had delivered their drinks and moved onto another customer.

"Yes, but don't you worry your pretty little head about how much I've had to drink. I was planning on walking home and getting my car in the morning. I only live about four blocks from here."

Well, huh. Takashi definitely blushed when Lance said that he was pretty. (Well, that his head was pretty. Still counted, though.) Now, that was interesting.

Lance took one little sip from his new drink before pushing it away as Takashi was being his usual protective self.

"Uh, I couldn't let you do that," he was saying, waving his hands around. "I'll just have the one beer, and I'll give you a ride home."

"That's so sweet of you, Shiro. My knight in shining armor."

Takashi had gone from pleasantly pink to fire engine red. Lance couldn't even see the scar that went across his nose anymore.

"It's the right thing to do," Takashi said as he practically crawled into his beer bottle.

"Or maybe you just don't want to see little ol' me get into any trouble." Lance batted his eyes. "But what if I wanted to get into some trouble?"

Takashi started coughing as his beer went down the wrong pipe. Lance patted his back, although he let his hand linger longer than Takashi's hand had when he'd done the same for him.

"Lance," Takashi said once he had regained composure. "I thought you promised Keith you'd stop joke flirting with people."

"I am allowed to sincerely flirt with people, though," Lance replied, letting his hand drift lower and settle around Takashi's waist. "Especially someone I'm already close with, who I think would be amenable to my advances."

Takashi looked as if he was going to start choking again.

"Do you... do you mean that?" he asked, looking so unsure of himself. It nearly broke Lance's heart. He wanted to cut in and assure him that he definitely meant it, but Takashi clearly wasn't done, so Lance let him continue. "I mean, not that I want it, but that you want it? You're not just saying that to mess with me because you figured out about... about my feelings?"

Well, Lance couldn't lie and say that didn't hurt. He did have to admit that what he saw as harmless ribbing could lead people astray and therefore make it tough to determine when he was being truthful. His pain didn't invalidate Takashi's feelings.

"Shiro... Takashi," he corrected. "I would never do that to you, even if I didn't also like you. You're my friend first and foremost. Which means I'll respect your decision no matter what it is. I know that a crush is one thing. It might not mean you want to do something about it. Especially considering we're coworkers."

Takashi smiled softly, letting his hand rest over Lance's. It was slightly clammy from holding his beer bottle, but quickly warmed up as they held onto each other.

"You called me by my name," was all he said.

"It _is_ a nice name."

"Lance, I want nothing more than to date you. It's all I've wanted for a long time now. Honestly, I can't even believe this is happening right now. I think I must have fallen asleep at my desk, and I'm dreaming."

Lance ducked his head as he laughed.

"I'm not sure I'm not dreaming either. I never could have imagined you'd like me in return. But I finally couldn't ignore all the signs any longer. It was starting to kill me, denying myself this... if I could have it."

"I know exactly what you mean."

There was an impatient cough from behind the bar. Lance looked up to see the bartender standing there, looking bored.

"You two doing alright over here?" he asked, making it pretty clear he didn't care whether they were doing alright or not. Obviously earlier he was going to judge Lance no matter what drink he had ordered. Lance felt much better at being true to himself and ordering something that was delicious.

"Perfect," he replied. "Actually, I think I'll be closing my tab, if you don't mind kind sir."

The bartender rolled his eyes, but he returned with Lance's receipt and with one quick signature, he and Takashi were walking out of the bar hand in hand. They hopped into Takashi's car and Lance directed him to his apartment.

"Welcome to my little sanctuary," Lance said as he opened the front door.

They stood in the entryway awkwardly for a moment before it hit Lance that there was nothing they didn't know about each other, so there was no reason for them to be awkward. They could do this. Lance took Takashi's hand once more and led him to the couch. They were content to sit there and simply enjoy each other's company at first. Lance, tactile as ever, running his fingers through Takashi's hair, dancing them up and down Takashi's arm, and feeling a little bold, grabbing the swell of his ass. That earned him a laugh.

"I'd say buy me a drink first, but you actually did."

"I can buy you several more before we do that, if that's what you want. We got at your pace."

"What I want is a kiss first, at least. Before you feel me up."

"I think I can manage that," Lance said with a chuckle.

He leaned in but was beaten to the punch when Takashi pressed his lips to Lance's right cheek, the bridge of his nose, and then his left cheek.

"Sorry," he said when he pulled back, his own cheeks stained red. "I've just always wanted to kiss your freckles."

Lance fell forward, burying his face in Takashi's shirt, and groaned.

"Don't apologize for that," he said, voice muffled by the fabric. "That's honestly too adorable."

" _You're_ adorable."

" _You're_ ridiculous."

And Lance kissed that ridiculous man right on the mouth. Well, sort of an the mouth. He missed by about an inch, and their teeth clashed together a little bit, and dammit. Lance had ruined their first real kiss. He would, wouldn't he? He supposed it could be seen as the perfect metaphor for how their relationship had progressed but he definitely didn't want the good kisses to take as long as it had taken for them to start truly getting along.

Alright. Take two.

This time Lance slowed things down, kissing Takashi softly, his hands finding their way back into his hair, enabling him to pull Takashi in even closer. He captured Takashi's lower lip between his own before nibbling on it, causing Takashi to let out a breathy moan.

Second kiss a success.

As were the third and fourth and fifth. And, well, Lance lost track after that.

At some point they had lost their shirts and Lance's kisses were landing more on Takashi's chest rather than his mouth. He had tried to tease his nipples, but with a wild laugh, Takashi told him he was sadly ticklish right there. Which was all good. Lance could work with that.Because, not to brag, but he was pretty damn good in bed. Well, pretty damn good on couch. When he was through with Takashi, he wouldn't even remember his own name.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you were to ask Takashi where he was or how he'd gotten there or how long he'd been there, he would not have been able to tell you. It was as if the rest of the world had frozen in time as soon as Lance's lips met his. He felt as if he was a teenager again since that was probably the last time he had made out with someone, not as a means to an end, but because the two of them were content to give each other pleasure that way.

Not that Takashi didn't want to go farther. He had waited years for this. He didn't want to wait another night.

"God, you're beautiful," Lance panted, his forehead resting against Takashi's collarbone, his words tickling his skin.

"I don't think anyone's called me beautiful before," Takashi replied before he could stop himself.

"Well, you are. I'm sure you've gotten 'hot' before, but that doesn't begin to cover it. You're ethereal, Takashi."

"You're going to make me blush."

"Good," Lance said smugly. "I like it when you blush."

"Well, I like the things you do to make me blush."

Lance rolled his eyes.

"All your lines are so elementary school, and yet I like you anyway."

"Lucky me."

"Lucky you." Lance paused for a moment, drumming his fingers like Takashi had watched him do countless times at work, though this time it was on his arm. "So, you wanna make out some more? Or would you like to maybe, I don't know, move this to the bedroom?"

"Yes! To the second one. I mean, if you want to."

"Oh, I do," Lance said, giving Takashi a, frankly lewd, once over. "I definitely do. I wouldn't have suggested otherwise."

Grabbing Takashi's hand one more time, Lance led him to his bedroom. Immediately Takashi noticed how 'Lance' it was from what he saw of the rest of the apartment which looked like he hadn't decorated the other rooms. The bedroom had been painted a deep blue and there were pictures of his family and friends hanging on all four of the walls. There was a large aquarium on top of the dresser, two goldfish lazily swimming back and forth.

"Oh no. I almost forgot to feed the girls," Lance said as he rushed over to the tank and sprinkled some food in. 

Takashi stood back and fondly watched him fuss over them.

"I didn't know you had any pets."

"Oh, yeah. I figured I could use the company. And lemme tell you, Romelle Jr. and Eleanor are great conversationalists."

Takashi walked over and wrapped Lance up in a hug.

"That was really sweet of you," Takashi said, smiling. "She would have loved it."

"Yeah? I thought so too."

"And who's Eleanor named for?"

"Eleanor Roosevelt."

Takashi laughed as Lance playfully tried to push him away.

"What's so funny? That I named my fish after strong women?"

"No, I think it's great. It's honestly so you. But now that you've taken care of the girls, you think you can finally take care of me?"

"I can absolutely do that."

Lance pushed Takashi down on the bed and set to work taking off his pants. Takashi felt a little exposed, being the only one naked, but Lance soon took his mind off of that when he started pumping his cock. Takashi groaned as his head fell back onto the pillow.

"Your moans are so cute," Lance observed.

"Hhmm... not cute. Sexy."

"Aw, you can be both baby."

Takashi shivered and Lance started to speed up his hand.

"Oh, do you like when I call you baby?"

"I'm not going to dignify that with a response."

Lance chuckled.

"Alright then, baby."

Lance ducked his head down and teased the head of Takashi's cock with his lips, and Takashi would admit he liked the pet name, that he liked all the nicknames Lance gave him, if it meant he'd do that again.

That he'd do more.

Thankfully, he didn't have to. Lance played with Takashi's foreskin for a moment longer before trailing his lips down, tongue peaking out, getting Takashi's cock nice and wet. It wasn't enough pressure to do much than drive Takashi insane, but God, did he love it. He didn't want to hurt Lance, but he had to do something with his hands, and so he found them twisted in the sheets, ruining Lance's perfectly made bed.Lance apparently didn't mind as he climbed up, getting his shoes on the comforter, because did Takashi mention before he was the only one naked? Because, yeah, he was still the only one naked. Lance leaned in to kiss him once more, and all Takashi could think about was how red and swollen his lips looked before they found his.

"You still with me, Takashi?" Lance asked, sounding far too smug, when Takashi had barely been able to return the kiss.

"Hhmm, I really want to fuck you," Lance continued before Takashi had a chance to defend himself. It wasn't as if Lance had given him a life changing kiss five seconds before. "But I know that's probably moving things too fast and..."

"No!" Takashi said quickly, his brain finally coming back online.

"...and, yeah, I figured you wouldn't be a bottom, but hey." Lance shrugged, but it was obviously he was a little disappointed. "A guy can dream, right?"

"Oh no, I meant no, that's not going too fast. I am totally a bottom. The biggest bottom, and I would love for you to fuck me."

"Oh, you _are_ big," Lance said with a grin. 

He started slowly pumping Takashi's cock again as he fumbled in a drawer of his bed side table. Finally he found what he was looking for, dropping a condom and a bottle of lube onto the bed next to Takashi's arm.

"You know, if you want to fuck me, you have to take your clothes off as well," Takashi teased.

"Alright, I suppose," Lance said with a sigh. "Just know, I'm going to look so scrawny next to you."

Takashi reached out and rest his hand on Lance's cheek, thumb brushing over the freckles he loved so much. 

"You're beautiful too, Lance. Just differently than me."

Lance thanked him with a kiss before he took off his own clothes. Scrawny was definitely not the word Takashi would have used to describe him. Lean, sure, but not in an unhealthy way. And there were dozens -- possibly hundreds -- more freckles down his chest, and Takashi wanted to kiss every last one.That would have to wait for another time, though. Right now, he was ready to be fucked. And Lance was on the same page it seemed. He had already flicked open the lube and was coating his fingers.

"You ready, baby?"

"Yeah, yeah. Come on Lance."

"Don't be a brat," Lance said as he playfully swatted Takashi's thigh.

Lance slowly eased the first finger in and Takashi gave a little performance moan. The first finger never really did anything for him, but he needed Lance to get on with it honestly, so a little white lie wasn't going to hurt anyone. Except Lance apparently could already tell the difference between his real moans and one that was fake.

"Alright, Mr. Impatient," he said, thrusting in the second finger with no preamble.

This time the moan was definitely real. It took what felt like forever, but what was probably only five or so minutes, and finally Lance was pulling his fingers out and attempting to open the condom. It was tough considering his hands were covered in lube, and Takashi took pity on him.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lance was trying so hard to not make a total fool out of himself, but he was dumb and forgot to open the condom before doing anything else. Now Takashi would know he wasn't suave, laugh at him, and leave.

But that wasn't what he did at all.

Takashi took the condom from him, opened it with ease, and slowly rolled it onto Lance's cock. Between the fact that Lance hadn't touched himself once since they had started and the fact that Takashi maintained eye contact the entire time, Lance practically yelled out in pleasure.

"I should have known you'd be loud in bed," Takashi teased.

"Well, at least you know I'm enjoying myself."

Takashi laughed at that, and God, did Lance love that sound. He wanted to hear it every day for the rest of his life. At least twenty times per day.

But he was getting ahead of himself. He couldn't do that without blowing Takashi's mind first so that he'd want to stay. Lance had a very detailed plan with many steps that he had been forming in his head since he got Takashi in his apartment, and he'd ruin the whole thing if he kept skipping steps. Takashi was the kind of guy that absolutely deserved to be wooed.

Lance eased the head of his cock into Takashi, his breath hitching. Takashi had closed his eyes and was biting his lip -- and it was the sexiest thing Lance had ever witnessed in his life. He could only imagine how the beautiful man would look once he was truly fucking him. 

No matter how impatient Takashi was (and, well, he couldn't lie and say he wasn't getting impatient as well) Lance wasn't going to rush things and hurt him. No, Lance eased in so slowly that by the time he bottomed out, they were both panting and sweating.

"Are you finally going to start fucking me now?" Takashi asked.

"If you were to ask me if I had thought you were a power bottom, I would have laughed in your face."

"I am _not_ a power bottom," Takashi muttered with a pout.

"No, you're right. You're a brat."

Takashi blushed such a lovely shade of crimson at that, which Lance would have thought it was impossible for him to get any redder, but here they were.

"Yeah, you're not a power bottom. You're just going to lay there and take what I give you, like the good little prince you are."

"Oh my God, shut up Lance."

"You love it," Lance said and then he finally started to move.

Slow at first, not because he didn't think Takashi could take it, but because he certainly had opened him enough, but because he was afraid it would be all over too soon, if you caught his drift .Eventually he started picking up speed, his thrusts sending Takashi up against the head board. He didn't seem to mind, however, if his moans were any indication. They were louder and coming more frequently, and Lance couldn't lie -- it was flattering, to say the least. It definitely encouraged him. His thrusts became a little rougher. He had started holding onto Takashi's hips and his fingers were digging in so hard that the skin had turned red. He would have felt bad about that, but Takashi was raking his fingers down Lance's back, and he just knew that he'd have marks there in the morning.Lance was getting close, so he reached a hand down and started jerking Takashi off in time with his thrusts.

"Oh God," Takashi groaned. "Yes, Lance. Like that."

"Yeah, baby? That good?" Lance twisted his hand, his thumb coming up to play with Takashi's foreskin. "You're going to come for me?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm close. Are you close?"

"So close, baby. So close."

"Lance. I need..." Takashi grasped at Lance's hair. "Can you kiss me?"

"Of course, baby. I got you."

Lance leaned down and captured Takashi's lips once more. It was hard to properly kiss him with how fast Lance was moving, but Takashi had asked him to, so he was going to fucking kiss him, god dammit. Takashi moaned into Lance's mouth as he came. Lance worked him through it as it triggered his own orgasm. It was almost too much and Lance collapsed on top of Takashi, breathing heavily. Takashi brought his hand up and rubbed Lance's back softly.

"We should get cleaned up," he said quietly, although in the silence of the room, it shattered the sound barrier.

"No," Lance whined. "Too tired. I'm not moving."

Takashi chuckled.

"Shouldn't that be my line?"

"Your line? Hey now! I did all the work here! I'm allowed to be tired."

"Hmm... you're right. So hows about you move over so I can go grab us a washcloth?"

"So you can snoop through my bathroom? I don't think so."

"Well then, I only see one possible solution," Takashi said as he stretched, jostling Lance. His poor cock gave a valiant effort to get hard again, but it just wasn't going to happen. "You'll have to draw us a bath."

"For the two of us? I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I can barely fit in my tub by myself. I appreciate the romantic gesture, though."

"That is a shame. I guess I'll just have to do something romantic for you tomorrow, then."

"I'd really like that," Lance said as he left some butterfly kisses along Takashi's collarbone. "You can start by driving me to the bar in the morning to pick up my car."

Takashi groaned and hid his face in his hands.

"Oh my God, I can't believe we actually left your car at the bar. And they'll know exactly why we left it there. They're so going to judge us when we show up in the morning when the bar isn't open."

"Oh, now you're suddenly embarrassed? That's what does it? I can walk to The Paint Bucket myself if it really bothers you."

"No, no!" Takashi wrapped his arms around Lance as if he was going to leave right then. "I can't let you do that. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I made you walk?"

"Boyfriend, huh?" Lance pried Takashi's hands away from his face and pecked his nose. "I like the sound of that."

"Yeah? Good. Because I'm definitely going to tell everyone you're my boyfriend. Now that I have you, I've got to show off."

Lance's breath caught in his throat.

"Oh, well, not exactly everyone," he said cautiously.

Takashi's face blanched.

"Oh, shit."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Keith's rules.

Everyone on his team knew about Keith's rules. Particularly Rule #9 -- Always carry a knife. Mainly because he carried at least two with him at all times.

But then there was Rule #12 -- Never date a coworker. There were more than enough rumors about what (or technically who) had been the cause of that rule. Lance's money was on James. Why else would he have transferred to the Los Angeles team? It totally wasn't because it was a pretty good promotion.

The point was, Keith took his rules very seriously

.He also probably wouldn't take too kindly to Lance dating his brother. Even though Keith was the younger of the two, he was the one who was over protective. Lance had witnessed first hand the shovel talk he had given Matt when he and Takashi had first became an item. It had not been pretty.

And he had been furious about the fact that they both worked at NCIS, albeit different departments, so Lance knew that Rule #12 was to be taken very seriously. It must have killed him that he couldn't use the 'I'm the boss and what I say goes' card, but neither of them had been on his team at the time. So there was nothing he could do.

There were so many things that he could do to Lance. Banish him to desk duty, transfer him to another team, or request Director Iverson assign him to be an agent afloat.Or worse.Make him break up with Takashi.

Well, they were both adults, so he couldn't _technically_ make them break up, but Lance knew Keith. He'd find some way to make it so they decided to break it off... if he really wanted to.

No, Lance couldn't let that happen. He was allowed to be happy, god dammit

.So Takashi drove him to The Paint Bucket the next morning (but not before many stolen kisses during a breakfast of frozen waffles) and then headed back to his place to change. It was probably a little out of the ordinary for Lance to arrive so early, but other than that, to anyone else it appeared to be another normal day. Lance made his coffee, started inputting some files while singing some Cuban folk songs to himself, and of course he had a quip ready for when Takashi clocked in.

Maybe it wasn't normal for him to blush so much at Lance's ribbing, but soon there wasn't time to worry about anyone noticing that.

They had a body.

"Could we be lucky and there be a witness or two for once?" Lance asked as they got their gear together.

"There _is_ a witness," Keith said, although he didn't look too happy about it.

"That is a good thing, is it not?" Allura asked.

"There _is_ a witness," Keith repeated. "Sort of."

"Sort of?" Lance, Allura, and Takashi all asked at once.

"Our victim was on the phone with his wife when he was killed. She heard everything. She's the one who called it in."

Lance groaned.

"It can never be easy, can it?"

"Don't you like a challenge?" Keith asked.

Lance supposed he did love a good challenge, although that was usually reserved for a crossword puzzle or the perfect wave when he was surfing. He didn't have a chance to ask Keith why he would bring that up. Keith had grabbed the keys from his desk and tossed them to Allura.

"Hey, Kashi. Show Allura to the truck. She can drive us to the crime scene."

Allura looked as if Keith had told her pigs had flown.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked.

"Yeah. Gotta learn at least one new thing every day, right? Lance and I will catch up to you two."

"Oh. Yes, of course."

Hold on. Lance didn't like that knowing tone in Allura's voice. What did she know that he didn't know? Takashi looked rather confused as well as Allura took his arm and lead him to the elevator. Lance tried to follow them, but Keith's hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks.

"Rule #82."

"I'm sorry?" Lance asked as he turned around to face Keith. "I don't think you've ever told me Rule #82."

"'You deserve to be happy,'" Keith recited solemnly. "Sometimes certain rules cancel out others. Like Rule #12."

"Oh," Lance said as his face fell.

Well, there was no point in denying it now.

"You make sure he's happy, okay? He really deserves to be happy. After everything he's been through."

"Oh, absolutely. I agree."

"And remember. I know quite literally how to get away with murder."

Keith sounded as serious as a heart attack, but that was definitely Keith's version of a smile Lance could see.

"Yeah, yeah. Of course," Lance said with a light laugh. "You do know that works both ways, right?"

Keith patted Lance's shoulder and started to make his way to the elevator. Lance went to follow but froze when Keith turned back around.

"Lance? You deserve to be happy too. You know that, right?"

Lance smiled softly.

"Yeah, I know. And he is. He's already making me happy."

"Already?" Keith asked, sounding confused. "Well, I would hope so. It's 'already' been a couple months."

"I'm sorry, what?"

**Author's Note:**

> **Bonus Scene**
> 
> "So, they haven't been dating this whole time?" Hunk asked.
> 
> Keith was busy chugging his third beer of the night. He and the rest of his team (well sans Lance and Takashi) had met up at a bar, after they had logged all the evidence from their new case, a block from NCIS headquarters where he had just finished telling them about what had happened earlier that day.
> 
> "Come on, Keith," Matt said. "Even I knew that they hadn't gotten their shit together yet."
> 
> "Who invited him?" Keith muttered.
> 
> "You invite one Holt, you invite both," Pidge chimed in.
> 
> "There really is no reason to fret, Number Four," Coran said, patting Keith on the back. He started to cough, although he wasn't sure if it had caused him to choke on his drink or it was simply because it reminded him of how he had patted Lance during their talk. "Most of us hadn't known one way or the other ourselves."
> 
> "Exactly," Hunk agreed. "Lance is my best friend, and I didn't know. I respected what I thought was his decision to keep it to themselves and didn't ask him about it. Now I feel terrible instead for just assuming things."
> 
> "Don't feel terrible, Hunk," Pidge said. "We're only human. We can't help assuming things."
> 
> "That was beautiful, Pidge," Hunk said, tearing up.
> 
> "Lance is never going to let me live this down," Keith said, ignoring Hunk and Pidge's side conversation. He signaled to the waiter for another beer. He was going to need it.
> 
> "But at least they're happy, right?" Pidge asked, smirking.
> 
> They had to have hacked into the surveillance videos and watched The Talk. Otherwise, why would they have asked that? With that look? See if Keith brought them any more energy drinks ever again.
> 
> Or at least for a month.


End file.
